Why do people hate mixed race so much

Daniel Glattauer: "Neurosi" loves the quarantine

We have a winner, a real beneficiary of the current situation at home. It is Rosi, our three year old mixed breed dog. Rosi loves the quarantine. Because Rosi hates people.

"Hate" is of course exaggerated, because this hatred is nothing other than fear. Shy. Skepticism. Discomfort. Suspicion. Mistrust. Yes, our Rosi does not trust people in principle. You feel about humanity in the same way as, for example, a not inconsiderable number of Austrians with refugees.

You instinctively assume the worst of them, and you cannot counter that with rational thinking. People who fear refugees cannot because they cannot get the enemy images and threat scenarios that have built up over the years and decades (and only recently again in exemplary fashion) out of their heads.

Rosi cannot do it because she is a dog and so theoretically does not have the necessary mental capacities to counteract it.

Orbanized awakening

Why is she such a scared girl? That probably goes back to the first few months of her life. She was thrown into the world in Hungary, and this early puppy orbanized awakening and experience has obviously left her traumatic traces, you can empathize with her.

Fortunately, she was discovered by animal rights activists and brought to Styria. There she lived for half a year as withdrawn as possible with a family, which unfortunately became too small when a baby was born. That is why it ended up on the Internet soon afterwards - under the brutal postmodern option "will have".

Physically, Rosi (at that time she was still called "Saphira", which unfortunately didn't work for us) was on a small Styrian dog farm when we visited her and were ready to take her in.

In the company of her own kind, she was bright, happy to run and playful, and we fell in love with her straight away. But not in us. When we tried to approach her, she backed away and hid under the belly of an allied St. Bernard, her bodyguard at the time, whom she will probably miss all her life.

People prefer to get out of the way

"She needs a little," said the nurse: "But she will quickly commit to her wife." Interestingly enough, there was no mention of "Herrl", and there was a good reason for that. Rosi shies away from all people, but she only develops pronounced aversions towards half of them, towards men, which, according to veterinarians, can be attributed to their testosterone intolerance, which they acquired at an early age or were already in the birth basket.

It is therefore not at all easy for me to have to admit at this point that it soon worked out quite well between Rosi and me. Amazingly, she let me get very close. So she had at least two people to whom she bound herself tightly and ever more closely. More should not be added in the next thirty-five months to this day.

Rosi is at peace with animals. She is very interested in cats, whose crawl she is able to imitate perfectly, but which, to her great disappointment, always run away from her. No mole pit is too deep for your nose. She is particularly busy tracking down voles, swallowing the small ones, and releasing the large ones at some point, even though they are often quite damaged by then.

Fearful of death, she snaps at bees, wasps and hornets, hunts (at each of the few occasions that arise) until she is completely exhausted and pursues the ambitious goal of catching one of these provocative, aloof crows once in her life.

People, on the other hand, are taboo for them. It would never occur to Rosi to voluntarily take even one step towards a passer-by. Only when moving backwards is she sure-footed and downright elegant in her posture. Just as there is something cautious, unpretentious and graceful about the way in which she shies away from her environment and avoids people.

She faithfully follows the principle "Live and let live" or, if her mind is currently unstable, the motto "Don't do anything to me, I won't do anything to you either, I won't do anything to you anyway, because I don't want anything to do with you do have."

Acquaintances are returning strangers

For Rosi, all people are strangers, strangers are unique strangers, acquaintances are always returning strangers. She is relentless when visiting friends and family members, to whom she owes the nickname "Neurosi". Already in the preparation phase for a meeting, when we uncover more than just two plates, which she immediately notices, she begins to gurgle deeply, nervously prance and stare mesmerized at the front door.

When these usual suspicious figures, all of whom she knows and fears by name, and whose tireless attempts to caress, perverse expressions of love and penetrating ingratiating efforts have already dug deep furrows in their psyche, when they have actually managed to cross the threshold again and close the hallway enter and invade their privacy, then she throws everything in desperate resistance that she has to offer acoustically and barks her heart out in a voice between the late Tom Waits and the early Rammstein. But people have no understanding and wait patiently until she resignedly falls silent and crawls into one of her numerous protected corners.

irony of fate

The worst thing that humans could do to them would be that they band together in groups in their presence, make the rooms narrow, block escape routes, stick their often red heads together, press their heated bodies tightly together, stamp their legs in the ground, drinking - Spread stench and bawl to hammered music. Let us name a name for such a bestial folk hustle and bustle: Gabalier concert.

Let's name a second name: apr├Ęs-ski. Yes, it is an irony of fate that just a few weeks ago the world was turned upside down in Rosi's favor at such horrific, boisterous gatherings.

Because in the middle of the horror scenarios of partying European ski vacationers in bulging Tyrolean huts, the well-traveled Covid-19 viruses burst in with full force and were preparing to conquer Austria after Italy.

Life form quarantine

From this point on, the responsible people, above all the Tyroleans, in Rosi's eyes, have undoubtedly done everything right, as did this sympathetic Tyrolean provincial councilor, who was first placed by the selfless governor, what was his name - Bernhard Tilg (certainly a great animal lover) , not tired of stressing dry-throated.

Yes, they did a good job, they waited - even if it was out of greed, but meaningful (in) deeds sometimes justify ignoble motives. Because these people have paved the long overdue path for Rosi into the new, fascinating way of life of the quarantine.

Since the beginning of the measures to "protect the population", our bitch feels like a newborn. It is literally blossoming, agile and fun-loving like never before. No wonder, there are only three of us left. We don't let anyone in anymore.

We're not going anywhere anymore. And even the indispensable daily walks, which were previously all too often characterized by unpleasant incidents with distant strollers, are of a completely different quality.

Because the strangers suddenly understand how to behave civilly and well-mannered towards Rosi. They make beautiful big arcs around them, turn their faces (which have recently been covered by strange masks) with dignity and never again seek their closeness, but always purposefully the distance.

Please add a year!

If it were up to Rosi, these supposedly drastic measures should be sharpened up with somewhat more rigorous bans on going out, the mandatory distance between two living beings who do not live in the same household could be increased to five meters, infringements could be examined more strictly and punished more severely - that would mean to possibly put a mounted Mr. Kickl at the side of the brave Mr. Nehammer. All of this would make sense for Rosi as long as the virus sent by China has to be fought.

And should Covid-19 have given up the ghost, you could, to be on the safe side, add another year of quarantine. Until it finally got into the final heads that the respectfully distant side by side is the healthiest and most social form of contemporary, civilized togetherness. Then we don't need a damn virus either. (Daniel Glattauer, April 11, 2020)